War Takes a Holiday
by Elfrieda
Summary: A ficlet in response to the XOC Shipper Talk Forum Challenge #1 I don't own anything, obviously. Or do I? No, I really don't. The first chapter is rated K , but Chapter 2 is rated M for sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

Xena/Ares Shipper Fanfic Challenge #1

By Elfrieda

Takes place after The Quill is Mightier.

"War Takes a Holiday"

_Gods, life was never boring_. By the time they had ceremoniously burned Gabrielle's formerly enchanted scroll in the campfire, night was beginning to fall. After supper, a very zonked-out Joxer staggered over to his bedroll and was soon sleeping serenely. Gabrielle was cleaning up the remains of the meal while Xena brushed Argo, who seemed to be the least affected by the days bizarre events.

Gabrielle's words broke the silence that had fallen. "Xena, do you think my writing could ever have a _real_ effect on the world someday? I mean, other than getting us chased by an army and a bunch of angry barbarians . . ."

"Don't forget the three naked yous." Both women chuckled.

"Gabrielle, your writing will survive long after we're dead."

"Aww, Xena, do you really believe that?"

"Which may not be too long if you keep using enchanted scrolls."

"Gee, thanks for the encouragement." Gabrielle tossed her dirty dishtowel in Xena's face, then went over and gave her a playful shoulder squeeze. "And with that, I'm going to bed. There's no way my dreams could be weirder than what happened today."

Xena gave her a half-smile. "Ehh, it's just a typical day in the life for us, right?"

"Good-night."

"Sleep tight."

In a few moments her friend was asleep, clearly more worn out than she had let on. Xena continued grooming Argo, which helped by giving her something habitual to focus on. That scroll had left her mind a little bit muddled, and seeing Gabrielle bonding with Ares had not made it any less so. Her body temporarily stiffened when she sensed a change in the air that meant that he was somewhere nearby, watching her, waiting for her to come to him, his mind – no, his blood – beckoning hers.

Xena stepped past Argo and out of the small clearing where they'd made their camp. She tried to quell the familiar sense of pleasure that rose within her as she felt him very near – enough that she could probably reach out her sword and – he was right behind her. Before she could draw a weapon, before she could even see him, she could feel his hands on her shoulders, playing with the leather straps, his fingertips grazing her collarbone. _By the gods_. The next moment she was facing him. There he was, back to his godly form, her chakram raised to his throat. She raised an eyebrow, giving him that "steely gaze" that she knew he admired so much (at least, those were the words Gabrielle had used when she gigglingly recounted Ares' words to her from earlier that day).

"Hello, Xena." His voice was deep, smooth, seductive, yet there was a playfulness in his manner that indicated that maybe he was enjoying the feel of her weapon against his neck.

"What do you want?" Her voice wasn't quite as menacing as she'd intended.

His face pulled into a cheeky grin. "Can't a war god come and check on his favorite . . ." and he paused, looking up from her breastplate into her eyes, ". . . warrior?"

"I'm touched. So I guess you're glad to still _be_ a war god, huh? Close shave you had there." She couldn't resist reminding him of his recent less-than-impressive turn as a mortal.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks to your little bard friend, there." He jerked his thumb in the direction of where Gabrielle was sleeping. "It wasn't all bad, though."

"No?"

"I got to watch _you_ in action." He brushed back an imaginary strand of hair from her face.

"Yeah. Testing out my new weapons." They both smiled at the memory of Xena using various unfortunate sea creatures in battle. "I think I'll stick with these, though." She drew back her chakram and watched a bit of moonlight glint off it, then hooked it to her belt, her other hand tapping the hilt of her sword, which was hanging at her back.

His dark eyes glittered. "And I think I'll stick to the war god business . . . that is, unless –"

"Unless what? Thinking of retiring? Thought you loved your day job," she retorted.

"Nah. Forget it. It'd never work." He gave her a quizzical look, which made her wonder whether there wasn't something more serious on his mind. She couldn't quite make him out tonight, which was frustrating. "Good night, Xena." He stepped back, mischievously blew her a kiss, and vanished in his usual spark of blue light.

The questioning words that were in her throat died before they could reach her lips. Instead, she settled for "Good night, Ares."

In the distance, Argo whinnied for Xena to come and finish her nightly brushing.


	2. Chapter 2

This chapter is rated M for sexual content.

Chapter 2 (follows the episode "Maternal Instincts")

Ares felt the visceral rush that came with a truly glorious, bloak-soaked battle. His eyes reflected the glint of swords and shields, and they began to glow black with the war lust. He hardly ever felt this way anymore, only on rare occasions when both sides were fighting for their lives, their homes, their families, and their prayers went up to him, even on the battlefield.

Ever since she'd left him, these moments were too few and far between, and he didn't revel in them as he once did. The other day when he'd watched her fight gave him a thrill of an entirely different kind, though he didn't have a name for it yet. It made him wonder what it would be like to spend the entire night with his body wrapped around hers, something they had never done when she was his warrior, and now he wondered why not. His mind lazily brought itself back to the war going on all around him.

Then, in an infinitesimal moment, the battle no longer went on for him. Soldiers stabbed and thrashed each other through his body, oblivious to his presence, as he was to theirs. _He sensed it - pain._ _Searing, crushin, heart-tearing pain_, _suffering like he had never imagined could exist, had never felt, but suddenly he could feel it as ripples through water_. _A scream_.

Ares left the battlefield without even willing it, and he was back in his chambers, watching her through a portal. _Who was this boy Xena was holding in her arms? Why wasn't he – oh. His face was tinged with blue, and _her_ face_ – Ares had to look away. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, except that he knew she was in some kind of mortal agony, and he couldn't stop the thudding in his chest. He closed the portal and sank down on the bed.

*******

She stalked the woods all night, until the icy blue moon was three-quarters of the way through its course in the sky. She seemed to have no destination in mind, but rather seemed to be trying to get away from something, or someone. He followed her from a distance on foot, and there were a few times when it seemed like she could sense him, but she never turned her head back to look, never called him out like she used to do.

She stopped when she reached a large lake. She seemed almost startled to find herself there, looking down at her reflection in it as if contemplating throwing herself in. Then she collapsed, almost too quickly for Ares to catch her, to keep her from falling in and hitting her head against the stones at the bottom of the chilly water.

Xena wept violently against the hard leather and soft curls that covered his chest. He let her hit him, wrestle with him, even bite him, but his solid arms did not let go of her. Then she began to sob more softly, as her last bit of anger-given strength left her, and he found himself stroking her hair, her arms, her neck, her breasts. He grazed his lips against her salty cheek, and she raised her face to meet him. She grabbed a handful of the hair on the back of his head and pulled his mouth to meet hers with what would have been a painful crash if he had been mortal.

He found himself pulling away. "Xena, what are you –"

"Shhh, shhh," she hushed him, as she reached for his mouth again. "Don't stop."

Ares felt a surge of lust flood his body, and he grabbed her hips as she brought herself up to straddle him. He thrust his pelvis up towards her, and she moaned, grinding herself into his leather trousers. She reached down and fingered his chest, pushing away his vest, then running her hands down to where their bodies met. She grimly, urgently pulled at the laces on his pants, looking at him almost pleadingly when they refused to come undone immediately. He leaned up to take her mouth with his, and let out a gasp when he felt her chilled thighs against his bare skin. She looked down at him, realizing what he'd done, and began to pull at her own leathers, then looked at him again, asking him with her eyes to do the same for her.

_By the gods, she was magnificent_. He took in the sight of her glowing skin, her muscular stomach, her gently hanging breasts, her erect nipples, and her powerful thighs, all willing and ready for his body. Under any other circumstances, he would have been overjoyed to find himself in this position, but the hollowness in her eyes made him hesitate.

"Ares, please . . ." she whispered to him with a dull longing, her voice raspy. She reached down, grabbing his left hand and bringing it up to cup her breast, then took his left hand and guided it between her legs, where he could feel her wetness. His control broke, and he thrust a finger, then another inside her, and squeezed tightly on her breast, and she groaned. After a minute she reached underneath her and grabbed his cock, and he pulled his fingers away and let her guide him inside her. She began to ride him, ever more insistently, until she let out a wail, and he couldn't tell whether it was more in pleasure or pain. It only took him a few more seconds, and he was filling her, his head rearing back. At the last moment of his pleasure, his sated eyes met her sorrowful ones, saw tears welling up once more in them, and his heart sank in his chest, and he felt bile rising up in his throat.

She got up off him almost as soon as he was finished, but couldn't stand, so she sank down, sitting on her knees in the sand, sobbing again, as the god watched her helplessly.

Ares picked himself up and whisked his clothes back on, as well as hers, and then walked over to her horse. He took her waterskin and filled it in the lake, then knelt down and handed it to her.

"Drink." She shook her head like a small child refusing to eat its supper. "Drink," he insisted, pressing the skin into her hands, then bringing it to her lips. Her large blue eyes looked over at him then, as if recognizing him for the first time, and she drank, taking a small sip, then a larger one, then draining nearly half the waterskin.

She finished and tossed the wineskin away and wiped the back of her hand haphazardly across her mouth. "My son is dead," she told him, her eyes staring once more into the depths of the lake.

He didn't know what to say, other than, "I'm sorry, Xena."

She looked over at him, angrily now. "You're sorry? How can you be sorry? You're a god! You've never lost anyone in your entire existence!" She spat out the last words like a curse.

"That's not true!" he yelled heatedly, surprising them both.

"My son . . . Solan . . . my baby . . . is dead," she whispered, as if still trying to make herself understand this horrible truth. "He's down there," she pointed towards the center of the lake. Ares worried now that the woman had actually gone mad with grief. It had been known to happen to mortals sometimes.

"He's dead, and he can never come back. What do you know about how I feel? Nothing!" She lunged forward at him, connecting an elbow with his nose. He fell backwards, and she landed on top of him, then he held her still as she tried to scramble to her feet. She managed to pummel his face a few times, though it left no mark. He kept his grip on her arms, and she finally had to stop struggling, and laid her head down on his chest. "You . . . you could bring him back," she muttered almost inaudibly.


End file.
